The Anointed One: Book II: Trilogy of Kings Saga

By Susan Van Volkenburgh and Heather Avary

Saul ben Kish is an ordinary man; that is, until he crosses paths with the prophet Samuel. Anointed by God to lead His people, this lowly Benjaminite shall soon be tested.

What begins as a search for his father’s wayward donkeys becomes a call to courage, and obedience. Can one man rally a nation to rise above oppression and fight fo

• Language: English
• Publisher: Creek Bluff Digital Media Services
• Release date: Feb 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9780960075522

Susan Van Volkenburgh

Susan Van Volkenburgh is the coordinator for a homeschool group in Keller, Texas. Prior to 1995, Susan was a registered nurse in oncology. As a member the Van Martins, Susan can be found traveling to area churches using her musical talents for the purpose of dispensing the Gospel.

Book preview

PART THE FIRST

I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with great judgments. I will take you as My people, and I will be your God. Then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.

EXODUS 6:6−7

CHAPTER 1

UNREST

The long-resounding cries of battle were swallowed by a gathering murmur of hooves thundering over the ridge. The Philistine ranks gave way releasing hundreds of horse riders cascading over the encompassing hills. Across the bloodied field, the enemy spilled like a wave cresting the shore at high tide, bearing down upon the Hebrew lines. Tiphcar, captain of the Israelite forces, looked on in horror as the battle turned to ruin.

Pull back! Pull back! Tiphcar cried as he gestured for the retreat with his arm. A moment before, the Chosen of God had been winning the day, now they were being crushed under the hooves of the Philistine beasts. Stunned, Tiphcar pressed his men toward camp, the concussion of the enemy’s charge close behind.

Unable to brook defeat, the captain halted.

No, he spoke as he wheeled around to face the enemy. We cannot abandon the Ark of God. We must fight!

Mustering his courage, Tiphcar called to the trumpet bearer, Sound the advance!

The lad’s eyes were wide with fear, yet he obeyed his captain. Pressing the horn to his lips, he let out a clear note that echoed over the confusion on the field. At the sound of the trumpet, the Israelites stayed their retreat, their courage renewed as they gazed upon their stalwart leader.

With sword lifted, Tiphcar bellowed in his strong voice, Reform the line! Reform the line!

The horde of horses hung on the horizon filling the wind with the sound of snorting and hooves pawing upon mud-laden earth. Regrouping, the phalanx of foot soldiers pressed their spear bolstered shield-wall into action. Shields locked together, spears angled up: they waited for the wave of hoof and rider to break over their lines.

Tiphcar could feel his heart beating to the rhythm of the galloping gait. Perspiration trickled down his face and neck prickling his skin. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. Every man looked to him for salvation. The weight of their trust rested heavy upon his shoulders. All this calamity was his to bear.

"Archers, arrows on my command. Reggah, wait." Tiphcar raised his arm, steadying the bowmen.

Orach’s voice rose above the clamor as he clutched his spear tighter. Now this is getting interesting!

Yet the captain could hear nothing save the crashing cadence of the rising tide. For a moment the action seemed to slow as the horses bore down ever closer to the rocky shore of shields. It was as though Tiphcar was watching from outside himself. He looked on with deaf ears as each rider lifted spear or sword above his head pressing toward his mark. Soon all would be decided. If the front lines failed, the ranks would be trampled; the day would be lost. Adrenalin coursed through the captain’s body. Suddenly audible, the savage roar of battle exploded upon his unstopped ears, as the raging flood of horse and rider rushed forward.

"Attah! Now!" Tiphcar shouted as he lowered his arm toward the onslaught of the hastening host.

With the twang of bowstrings, a volley of missiles let loose. Men and mounts were brought down as arrows pierced them through. Many foes fell, yet where one left off another took his place so that the wave of horse and rider seemed to have no end. The front line prepared for impact: heel and toe dug into the rain-soaked earth, head ducked behind bulwark, shoulder pressed against shield-barrier.

The galloping horde broke upon the wall like water over stone. Spears pierced horses, horses trampled men, riders jabbing and hacking, sliced through the lines, sending the Hebrew tribes into a mass of agonized confusion.

The horses! Kill the horses! Tiphcar called as he lifted his face above the mass of clashing swords and shields. Obediently, the Hebrew spears focused on the Philistine steeds, piercing many upon the breast.

Within the tangled turmoil, Tiphcar found himself surrounded by many foes, unaided by his Hebrew comrades. Cut off, he fought with all his strength. His destiny now undisputed, the captain resolved to die well, for it was his decision that had led his men to their present doom. He would fight until life was hewn from him. He would die among his men, as one of them.

Yet, just as the last buffer against despair was dismantled, hope unlooked for was revealed. Nagad and Orach rushed upon the scene, their sword and spear striking out against the enemy, their bodies covered in the leaching loam of the nearby swamp. Under their fury, Tiphcar’s fate was decided, for by their might the swarming swordsmen melted away.

"Well timed, ahab, my friends. Wiping his forehead with the back of his bloodied hand, Tiphcar turned to the Ark. Seeing the horses of the Philistine contingent rushing over the field toward the Holy Shrine, he shouted, To the Ark, to the Ark!"

Before his eyes, the horror of the scene played out. The priests were engulfed by the charging beasts. As many as were able ran to assist as the holy attendants were viciously cut down where they stood. Tiphcar felt a burning rage rise within him, bloodlust overtaking him so that all caution was lost. No one could withstand the tremor of his might as he threw down all foes in his wake. Yet, the charge of the indomitable beasts would not yield to his thirst. The enemy pressed the Hebrews back from the Holy Coffer. Reaching out, the Philistines seized the Ark to carry it away, back to the fortress at Aphek.

Tiphcar, with Nagad and Orach, raced after the Ark of God. Before they could reach their desired quarry, a sound resonated in the distance. It was a fell force that bore down upon them: the noise of the rumbling wheels and galloping horses. The jolting chariots and the rearing horsemen wreaked havoc about them.

The icy fingers of fear gripped Tiphcar’s heart. Horror struck, the captain stood, his feet frozen in place. His sword, bloodied and dull, slowly lowered as he watched, gaping in despair. Calamity upon calamity weighed down upon him as the earth tilted out of joint.

A mournful wail rose from the Hebrew lines. So haunting was this cry of woe that for a moment all fighting ceased. Even the Philistine forces recoiled at the wound they had inflicted upon the tribes.

All is lost, went up the cry.

The sky grew dark with a crack of thunder that shuddered through the ranks. The clouds burst open with a torrent of rain that obstructed the vision. And still the captain stood unmoving as the raging chariots pressed around him. Then the enemy was upon him.

He jolted with a start.

Bolting from his repose, Tiphcar sat with his cloak flung from his quaking frame. His breath was short as he wiped the cold sweat from his brow. So long it had been since his dreams had been haunted by that memory. Why do I reflect upon that difficulty now? thought Tiphcar. All that has been resolved. The Ark has returned, and peace has been restored. Yet, the old captain’s mind was heavy, for he had heard murmurs of tensions building and a plan put in motion by the elders. Shaking his head, Tiphcar rose and jostled the dust from his cloak. I am getting too old for sleeping out of doors.

Throwing his mantle over his shoulders, Tiphcar clutched the woolen cloth across his chest to ward off the morning chill. He was still troubled by the dream as he entered the road. The landscape was serene, a reflection of the present state of affairs. Yet, the old captain’s mind lingered on the thoughts etched upon his memory. Portends of doom pressed into his waking reason, growing more ominous with each step he took.

Twenty years it had been since Mizpah, and peace had settled upon the land. Yet peace never lasts. As the long years waned, a hidden malice grew: rumors of war in the west, whispers of unrest in the east. It was for this purpose that Tiphcar had received a summons to Bethel, the house of God it was called, to meet with the council of elders, for fear drove them to assemble once more. A high place to Yahweh had been raised there since the destruction of Shiloh, the holy city. Yet the Ark of God lay hidden in the house of Abinadab, secluded in the hills of Kirjath-Jearim, forgotten by the people.

Tiphcar rounded a bend in the road as the terrain curved to the northwest; a low rocky ridge lifted the city of Bethel before him. The town stood between two shallow vales that housed seasonal streams, one on each side of the city, as though the settlement was held in check by the bounding waters. The migratory currents ran the course of the two depressions, which met at the entrance to the city, making a moat on three sides of the rise. A watergate crossed the small cataract that formed by the union of the two rivers. The juncture of the streams produced one water shed that fell toward the southeast, supplying the bountiful pastureland with irrigation, the amount of overflow being regulated by the watergate. Before this, the gates of the city rose, lifting the eyes to accommodate large towers on either side of the entrance. Masonry walls encapsulated the town, stones cut to precision and piled one upon another forming a barrier against the outside.

What is this? Tiphcar spoke with agitation as he entered the gatehouse. Within the sparsely furnished chamber sat the eleven elders. Have you come together without me? I received your summons, but apparently, I have received it late. Have you decided without hearing my case?

Tiphcar, my friend, come in, come in. Gadowl, bent and withered by time, spoke as he gestured for the old captain to have a seat. We have not done anything against you. We simply have gathered to discuss the facts before we present our cause before you.

Tiphcar walked into the room, but did not sit, rather he stood, still powerful in body despite the passage of time, towering over the aged elder. Gadowl grew uncomfortable under the shadow of Tiphcar; he laughed nervously, and took a step back.

Turning, the elder council member, with the sweep of his hand, indicated the presence of his fellow conspirators and spoke, "My brother, you are new to this assembly. It is not uncommon for us to debate an issue before including all members. We find it saves time to collect our thoughts."

"You mean swaying the others to your side before they get all the information. Well, brother, Tiphcar gathered himself up and spoke these words with malice, you will hear what I have to say."

Now, now, spoke Zaqen. Let us not come to this. We are all brothers here. We must not let our feelings rule our decisions.

Yes, yes, spoke Gadowl. He wrung his hands as he stepped closer to Zaqen. Let us not come to spiteful words. Indicating a bench with his outstretched hand, the elder continued. Please, Tiphcar, join us and hear what we have to say.

Tiphcar scowled, but took a seat upon a bench that rested against the outer wall.

As you know, there has been some news from the north, just east of the Jordan, began Gadowl. Our enemies are on the move.

Yes, interjected Haddabar, who, as he spoke, remained seated across the room from Tiphcar. Leaning forward, resting one hand upon his knee, the elder gestured with his other hand as he continued his address. Even now, Captain Nagad has sent word from the north that he and his men have encountered unrest on the borders of Ammon. It appears that King Nahash has threatened to invade our outer cities. And our spies in the west tell us that the Philistines once more grow restless and are fortifying their borders.

Rumors have come to my ears of the Amalekites to the south, spoke Gadowl. They too have strengthened their borders. And reports have reached us that the kings of Damascus and Aram Zobah are building forces in the north. Gadowl walked over to Tiphcar and looked down upon him. So you see, I tell you now, even weeping, that our enemies have hemmed us in on every side. We must take action, and do it quickly, or we shall face annihilation.

What do you propose we do? inquired Tiphcar, still suspicious.

A king, spoke Gadowl. We need to appoint a king, someone to unify the tribes and go out to fight against these threats.

Tiphcar let out a great sigh. Standing, he addressed the assembly, reaching to them with his outstretched arm. "All these long years, Samuel has led us well. See how peace has ruled the land. Do you now doubt? Do you think our God will leave us undefended? Has He not provided for us in the past? I tell you brothers, we need no king over us whilst we have the Lord Almighty. In our hour of adversity, we are not without hope. Do not let fear cloud your vision. Do you not remember how the Lord protected us and delivered us? Did not Gideon refuse the throne when offered saying, ‘I will not rule over you, nor shall my son rule over you; the Lord shall rule over you’?¹

Let us have this mind, continued Tiphcar with passion, standing before the elders with his arms open as if waiting to deliver an embrace, that no matter what the threat, we will continue to trust in the leadership of Yahweh. Lowering his empty arms, Tiphcar’s voice softened as he shook his head slowly. My brothers, we are not like the other nations; we have been chosen to be governed directly by God. Why would we desire to put our trust in a ruler? Has not the Lord shown Himself a worthy King?

It is a simple matter of good politics, brother, injected Gadowl while extending his hand, palm side up, as though he were showing what he was speaking. We see how the other nations prosper. We see how they are held together, unified. A king to govern us is necessary to compete in today’s world. Gadowl walked over and placed his hand upon Tiphcar’s shoulder. Times have changed my friend, and we must change along with them. If we do not have proper leadership, we shall face another defeat like Aphek.

Tiphcar looked down at the hand upon his shoulder in disgust. Too well he remembered that it was Gadowl who first spoke of taking the Ark of the Covenant into battle, unbidden. And at Aphek it was that the Holy Shrine was lost. Yet Tiphcar had agreed, so the burden of guilt rested upon his own shoulders. Still, the old captain was slow to trust the counsel of this elder.

Shaking free from Gadowl’s grasp, Tiphcar spoke, Was it not the Lord who redeemed us at Mizpah? Without his intervention, we would not have a nation.

Tiphcar, this matter has already been decided, growled Gadowl.

Zaqen, pleaded Tiphcar, his hand extended toward the elder, you of all people cannot agree to this.

Tiphcar, I have pledged my support. Zaqen looked away from the old captain’s gaze, unable to bear up to his reproach. Look, we need someone to unify us, to lead us. This cannot be Samuel. See how he has aged. He cannot long endure as judge over us. To whom then do we look? His sons? They have forsaken their father’s ways. They are no better than the sons of Eli, perverting justice for their own gain, taking bribes. Shaking his head, he continued. No—we cannot look to the sons of Samuel.

Then do you all agree to this? queried Tiphcar as he looked around the room at the faces of the elders.

Aye, we do.

It appears I am outnumbered, Tiphcar spoke with sorrow. At least we must consult Samuel. It is not right to decide these matters without his input. We must go to Ramah and meet with the prophet. It is he who must decide the fate of Israel.

---

¹ Judges 8:23

CHAPTER 2

AT THE GATES OF RAMAH

Samuel sat outside the city gate, looking down at the ground. He heaved a great sigh. He felt old, old and tired. Many years lay between now and when he had become judge over Israel, many trying years leading this band of wayward people. He had spent the better part of his life traveling from year to year on a circuit throughout the territories of Israel in an attempt to encourage the Hebrew people’s fidelity. Now, old age had slowed his body. It was for this cause that he had limited his rotation to Bethel, Gilgal, and Mizpah. But he always returned to Ramah, for this was his home.

As he pondered the long years behind him, the old prophet’s heart grew heavy. They are a stubborn group, these people, thought Samuel. For a great length of time, the western threat had been subdued. The tribes had lived in relative peace. Yet the people grew restless, desiring the finery of the nations in the west. His own sons, as Eli’s before him, were no better, for they did not walk in his ways. Both had been appointed judges over the land of Beersheba to ease Samuel’s burden. But, Joel, his first born, and Abijah, his second, had given themselves over to their cravings for pleasure and riches, turning from justice and mercy to personal gain. The heavy burden continually weighed upon Samuel; his influence over the people had begun to wane as his body grew weary before its time.

Concerned for the future, Samuel searched his heart for what should be done. He would not last much longer, his time as judge was growing short. The tribes were a cluster of splintered factions, each tribe providing for its own clan members with little regard for their neighbors’ struggles. Uniting these Chosen of God had always been a difficult task. Adversity had brought them together in the past, but now, peace ruled the land. Without a cause to unite them, the multitude had become lax in their faith and neglected the Lord, withholding offerings and mingling with the peoples of the other lands. Their wanderings abroad will be their downfall. Their wayward ways will be their doom.

Samuel let out another sigh; the air escaped without releasing his anxiety. A time is coming, a day of reckoning. I can feel it; it is lurking in the shadows, just beyond the bend, waiting to tear this people asunder. Will they be able to endure? Or will they altogether forget the One who is the source for all their needs? How natural it is to lean on the Lord, our Strength and Sustainer, in the presence of danger; yet, how easy it is in times of prosperity, when fear and urgency cease, to become complacent, to forget promises made.

Still looking at the ground, twirling a twig between his forefinger and thumb, Samuel became aware of approaching footfalls. Now what? Never a moment’s peace from these trivial squabbles! Lifting his head, he was surprised to see all the elders of Israel gathering before him. Samuel fixed his eyes upon the elder in the forefront. Gadowl, the very name left a bitter taste in his mouth. The old prophet could not forget the trouble this elder had caused the people. Many years of sorrow followed that decision, and many had paid a heavy price.

There was a long spell of silence in which the recipient of Samuel’s stern gaze grew restless with discomfort. Drawing himself up, Gadowl broke the taut air, a sideways smile breaking across his wrinkled face. Behold, thou art old, and thy sons, oh Samuel, walk not in thy ways.

The words stung, but the old prophet hid his distress, keeping his gaze unchanged.

Extending his hand to the west, Gadowl continued, Look at the nations among us. They are strong, and powerful. Their barns are full of grain and their people work as one. They have iron implements and weapons aplenty. Strong armies protect their lands and people. The Philistines stretch out their arms in all directions. It will not be long before they desire the regions returned to us after the battle of Mizpah. Even now, we hear rumors of threats to our security. Peace will not long endure.

Looking up with one eye closed against the westering sun, Samuel asked, suspicious of the answer forthcoming. What is it that you would have me do? There was an edge to Samuel’s voice.

It was the question for which the aged elder was waiting. A smile slid across Gadowl’s face, peeking through the veil of his restrained countenance, hinting at his hidden agenda.

Make us a king to rule over us, reasoned Gadowl, like all the other nations.

Samuel grew tense. He took in a deep breath, and exhaled as he forced his body to relax. Even so, his expression remained unaltered, his inner thoughts hidden from those who awaited his response. Looking once more to his twig, Samuel raised it before his face, examining it closely. He twirled it this way, then that, squinting his eyes to bring the scion into focus.

Samuel began to speak, his voice soft and gentle, each word spoken with deliberate intent. Ever his eyes remained on the twig. "It is said that the trees once went forth to anoint a king over them.

And they said to the olive tree,

Reign over us!

But the olive tree said to them,

"Should I cease giving my oil,

With which they honor God and men,

And go to sway over trees?"

Then the trees said to the fig tree,

You come and reign over us!

But the fig tree said to them,

"Should I cease my sweetness and my good fruit,

And go to sway over trees?"

Then the trees said to the vine,

You come and reign over us!

But the vine said to them,

"Should I cease my new wine,

Which cheers both God and men,

And go to sway over trees?"

Then all the trees said to the bramble,

You come and reign over us!

And the bramble said to the trees,

"If in truth you anoint me as king over you,

Then come and take shelter in my shade;

But if not, let fire come out of the bramble

And devour the cedars of Lebanon!"²

Growing impatient, Gadowl spoke sternly, What do trees have to do with us? See how you ramble. No, we need a king, as the nations around us have their kings.

I ask you, spoke the prophet, as again he squinted up at Gadowl, what shade or protection can there be in a bramble? Is not the true purpose of the bramble but to kindle the fire and in so doing destroy the noble cedar? How can the people of Yahweh take shelter under the shadow of a lesser king?

Looking at the assembly of elders before him, Samuel’s eyes came to rest upon Tiphcar. Is this your wish as well, Tiphcar, old friend?

The council has discussed these matters, spoke Tiphcar returning Samuel’s gaze. It is the will of the elders, though not my own desire, but I must heed the wants of the majority.

The old prophet looked sorrowfully at Tiphcar and nodded his head. Closing his eyes, Samuel lowered his face and took in a slow breath.

When you have eaten and are full, spoke Samuel, beware that you do not forget the Lord your God.³

Anger festered within him as he pondered the request. Woeful stupidity! cried Samuel as he returned his gaze to the elders before him. His brow was furrowed and his eyes glared. "You have taken the jewels of heaven and cast them at the feet of swine.⁴ You have buffed out the glory of their shine and made them dull as the rocks upon the ground. You do not want for a king! The prophet lifted a hand toward heaven. The Lord Almighty is your King. Where does your rejection stop? At the worship of other gods?"

Taking a deep breath Samuel calmed himself as he lowered his gaze. His voice softened. This thing you ask of me is not for me to decide. Come back tomorrow, for I must speak to the Lord regarding this matter.

Samuel, spoke Gadowl, time is waning. We need an answer. Our enemies will not wait for an old man to make up his mind. We will be answered!

And you shall. Samuel spoke with an edge of annoyance, though he kept his voice low and calm. Tomorrow.

Gadowl growled, but said no more. The elders turned to leave, stirring up dust in their wake. Samuel sat where he was, watching as they walked away, their backs to him.

So, they do not want me to speak for them anymore. Closing his eyes, the old prophet shook his head from side to side. All my long life, even from my childhood, I have served these people. Samuel looked to heaven as tears welled in his wise eyes. And now they reject me as judge, for they deem I am old and useless. Maybe I am. I am not as young as I used to be. My body is tired. But this thing they request is vile. I know it in my heart.

As he sat there, gall rose within him. A king! They do not know what they ask!

Dropping his twig, Samuel rose, leaning heavily upon the wall. He let out an involuntary Oh as he pulled himself erect. Heaviness filled his body as he made his way through the gate, noting that the sun was low in the west. The fortifications of the city were strong and tall, an impressive mass of large stones precisely laid, the very weight of the rocks pressing them in place. Along the wall were several openings positioned for the daily traffic to pass into the city. Large towers, one on each side and one directly above the gate, loomed down upon Samuel as upward he glanced. He raised his hand over his eyes to shield them from the setting sun. Great wooden doors, heavy and strong, lay open on either side of the entrance.

It is getting late; soon the gates will be shut for the night. Taking a deep breath, Samuel girded his strength and trudged through the city, past the market place, and down a side street, until he reached the path to the high place.

Ramathaim-Zophim, or Ramah, sat upon a hill, the city built on multiple levels. Within the lower section of the city, where the terrain was less rocky, most of the residential homes were built. But it was to the highest point of Ramah that the old prophet was bound. As he strove up the steep incline, Samuel came to a flat, rocky clearing. It was here that he had built an altar to the Lord.

Pausing to catch his breath, Samuel leaned forward, resting both hands upon his knees. When he had recovered, the old prophet raised his head and observed the high place. Before him stood the large platform made of an unhewn boulder, for no stone cut by human means was permitted as an altar to the One True God. After providing the evening sacrifice, Samuel approached the sacred rostrum and knelt down before it. Lifting his voice to heaven, he prayed unto El Elyon, the One who is above all.

It is for Israel my tears do fall, and for her my prayers are uplifted. Forbid that ever I shall cease to intercede on her behalf whilst breath remains within me. Till all care and strength are lost to me, I will hold her before You. These people, whom You have purchased, in their pride and ingratitude, have thus rejected me as judge and You, O Lord, as rightful King. They wish to be numbered among the nations, no longer chosen from among the races. No more do they believe that You, O God, will fight their battles for them. Lord protect them from their own desires, for they do not understand what it is they ask. This thing they request is evil. Do not grant this, which they seek, for this cure is worse than the difficulties we now face!

After a time, a voice of one like thunder resounded upon his mind. Samuel knew this voice, for he had heard it before. And in his heart, he perceived that the Lord desired the prophet listen to the words of the people and give them what they asked. Yet it was not Samuel who the people rejected, but Yahweh, for they did not desire that He should reign over them. So it has been since the day the Lord brought the people up out of Egypt, even unto this day, wherewith they have forsaken their Lord and served other gods. Now therefore, the Lord instructed that Samuel should hearken to the voice of the people. However, the prophet was to solemnly protest and show them the ways of the king who shall reign over them. For what they ask was far more serious than even the prophet knew.

Now Samuel, being weary of heart, agreed to do as Yahweh commanded, though it was not his wish. Betrayed! These ungrateful people will rue the day they desired a king. Disgust swept over Samuel as he rose. He closed his eyes while taking in a deep breath. He forced his body to relax as he tried to let his anger flow from him. They have become a stiff-necked people, looking this way and that. They have forgotten the promise made to the Creator by their forbearers.

Slow steps and with head bowed, Samuel made his way down from the sacred place. He followed the path that entered into the heart of the city. It was late. The sun had set, yet the afterglow of the day-star illuminated the western sky. Samuel, within the fading light, navigated through the narrow streets of Ramah. The markets had closed for the night. People were hurrying home for their evening meal. Samuel could smell the sweet aromas wafting upon a faint breeze. His stomach grumbled.

He soon approached a modest domicile, constructed of limestone rock, which had been bonded together with mortar made of lime, sand, and water. Though his permanent residence was the Naioth, the prophet’s house of instruction, Samuel had taken a humble dwelling within the city so that he could escape the demands of his students. After traveling and ministering to the people, he found it necessary to have the solitude of a room away from his duties.

Samuel opened the door and slid inside. It was dark within and the air was stale. After a few moments of fumbling, he found a lamp and lit it. Light poured across the room revealing a sparsely furnished area that served as eating, living, and sleeping quarters. Several scrolls and parchments cluttered the small table in the center of the room. A reed pen and an inkhorn lay forgotten on an overturned clay pot. Several well-worn woven mats were strewn across the floor. A bed roll was carelessly tossed aside in one corner of the chamber.

Samuel closed and latched the door. Walking over to the far corner of the room, he lit the coals in the brazier to ward off the chill in the air. Despite the coolness of the evening, the prophet drew aside the heavy curtain over a small window to allow a fresh breeze to enter, driving out the musty atmosphere that lingered within the chamber. Moonlight streamed in through the latticework that covered the opening making crisscross patterns across the floor. The old prophet poured himself a cup of water from a jug that rested under the open window. For a time he stood looking through the latticework, lost in thought, his cup unused within his hand. His mind returned and he took a long drink, which cooled his parched throat. Reaching for a basket, he grabbed a few dates and a stale loaf of bread. A meager meal after a trying day. He ate in silence, sitting alone in his little room, until he was content, and then spread out his bed roll. He fell asleep as soon as he lay upon the mat.

The darkness of night permeated the room as Samuel awoke with a start. His mind was full of words that flowed deep from his memory—a prayer he had heard before, drawn from a time long ago.

My heart rejoices in the Lord;

My horn is exalted in the Lord.

I smile at my enemies,

Because I rejoice in Your salvation.

No one is holy like the Lord,

For there is none besides You,

Nor is there any rock like our God.

Talk no more so very proudly;

Let no arrogance come from your mouth,

For the Lord is the God of knowledge;

And by Him actions are weighed.

The bows of the mighty men are broken,

And those who stumbled are girded with strength.

The Lord kills and makes alive;

He brings down to the grave and brings up.

The Lord makes poor and makes rich;

He brings low and lifts up.

He raises the poor from the dust

And lifts the beggar from the ash heap,

To set them among princes

And make them inherit the throne of glory.

For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s,

And He has set the world upon them.

He will guard the feet of His saints,

But the wicked shall be silent in darkness.

For by strength no man shall prevail.

The adversaries of the Lord shall be broken in pieces;

From heaven He will thunder against them.

The Lord will judge the ends of the earth.

He will give strength to His king,

And exalt the horn of His anointed.⁵

The soft voice of his mother, Hannah, grew within him. It had been many years since he had thought of her. Those are her words. Why do they come to me now, after so much time has passed? Pondering this, Samuel lay back upon his bed and looked up at the ceiling.

Tomorrow, everything will change. The shadows stretched long as the night wore on, the moon peeking in through the open window. The air had grown still and silent. Soon, Samuel drifted off into a fitful slumber, his mind in conflict even as sleep came upon him.

---

² Judges 9:7−15

³ Deuteronomy 8:10−11

⁴ Matthew 7:6

⁵ 1 Samuel 2:1−20

CHAPTER 3

A KING OVER US

The cock crowed. Beams of light glinted across his face.

What?

With reluctance, Samuel opened his eyes and groaned. How could it be dawn when he had just fallen asleep? He was stiff and his movements slow as he rose from bed. Standing still for a moment, he took a few deep breaths to claim his balance and come to his senses. Bending at the waist, he took hold of his mat, and tossed it back into the corner of his cluttered room. He poured water into a clay basin and splashed it upon his drowsy face. He shook his head against the cold.

Unwelcome frigidity!

He was ill-tempered as he grabbed a morsel of food and headed toward the main gate of the city. He knew the elders would be gathered there, waiting for his answer. His legs felt like lead as he pushed himself forward. The weight of his burden lay heavy upon him. At this moment, Samuel wished he had never been called as judge over Israel.

Has all my work been in vain? Has anything really changed? The people still look for help from lesser sources. They yet refuse to rest upon Yahweh, and wholly trust in His leadership. So then, what has it all been for?

The morning teemed with activity. Shop owners were busy setting up for the day’s market. Voices rose over the sounds of wagon wheels and the unloading of crates. It seemed that goats and children scurried everywhere, around carts and under tables, bleating and squealing with glee.

Samuel, Samuel! called several of the children, running up to him.

"Shalom, my little ones," the old prophet spoke with a gentle voice.

They threw their arms around his waist, a few found his legs. He almost lost his balance, but managed to center himself after the impacts ceased.

Enough, enough, cried Samuel, patting several upon the head. Despite his mood, he found himself smiling. It is for these little ones; that is the cause for which I strive.

I must be on my way, spoke the prophet tenderly as he stroked the head of a child. The elders wait at the gate.

Releasing their hold upon him, the children waved as they ran off in various directions. The smile upon the prophet’s face faded as he resumed his pace toward the entrance of the city. As he reached the gate, he saw a large group of people waiting.

"Shalom Aleichem, peace be unto you," spoke Samuel, his voice solemn.

"Aleichem Shalom, upon you be peace, Samuel. Have you come to a decision regarding our request?"

Samuel shot a stern glance at Gadowl. "I have spoken to El Elyon, the Almighty, Who was from the beginning."

And what did He say? asked Zaqen, standing to his left.

Samuel turned to the elder. Tell me, my brother, is your heart set on this thing? Do you deal thusly with the Lord, oh foolish and unwise people? Is He not your Father who bought you? Will you all forget this and return to your homes?

We will not relent. Our hearts are set. All spoke, save Tiphcar who stood aside as though loathe to be associated with the others. His arms were crossed about his chest; his gaze was fixed upon the ground.

Samuel conveyed to the elders all that Yahweh had spoken to him, each word weighing heavily upon his tongue. "This will be the mishpat, or manner, of the king who shall reign over you: he will rule with arbitrary and absolute power, for he will take your sons and appoint them for himself, for his chariots and to be his horsemen; and some shall run before his chariots as messengers to announce the king’s coming. And he will appoint him captains over thousands and captains over fifties, and will set them to till his ground and to reap his harvest, and to make his instruments of war and instruments of his chariots. And he will take your daughters to be confectioners and to be cooks and to be bakers. And he will seize your fields and your vineyards and your olive yards, even the best of them, and give them to his servants. And he will demand a tenth of your seed and of your vineyards, and give to his officers and to his servants. And he will take your menservants, and your maidservants, and your goodliest young men, and your beasts of burden, and put them to his work. He will require a tenth of your sheep; and you shall be his servants. And you shall cry out because of your king that you have chosen; and the Lord will not hear you in that day."

Samuel paused to let his words sink into the hearts of the elders. Yet, as the old prophet surveyed the faces of the men before him, their countenances appeared unaffected by his speech.

In frustration the old prophet spoke, So, I ask you again. Are your hearts set? Will you not forgo this foolishness?

The elders looked upon one another with firm faces.

Gadowl turned toward Samuel. Nay; but we will have a king over us, that we also may be like all the nations, and that our king may judge us and go out before us and fight our battles.

The old prophet hung his head. He raised his hand to his brow as a dull ache formed behind his eyes. With his lids closed, Samuel shook his head. Did not Moses tell your fathers in the wilderness not to be afraid? The Lord, your God, has ever gone before you. He has fought for you, according to all that He has done for your fathers in Egypt, and in the wilderness. The Lord carried them.

Samuel walked among the elders, pleading with them, his hands outstretched as he looked upon their faces. "Did not Yahweh say that if you prepare your hearts for the Lord, and serve Him only, He would deliver you from your enemies? Was El Elyon, your God, not faithful to deliver you from the hands of the Philistines at Mizpah? He is your true and only King; you need no other."

Nay, we have spoken! rebuked Gadowl.

Samuel stood looking upon the hard countenances of the men before him. Many had crossed their arms about their chests and widened their stances as though forming a solid wall of resistance. Unyielding, the elders looked upon the prophet with harsh expressions. The silent stalemate continued as each side refused to give way.

Ashamed, Tiphcar lowered his face, for he could not gaze upon Samuel. What have I done? he thought. There was a time I would have fought. I wonder at my decision to join the Council of Elders. I would take a sword any day over this battle of speech. My tongue is not sharp enough to